Knole: An Ancestral Seat and a Sofa

Now, permit me to make one thing clear at the outset. Contrary to popular opinion, a sofa is a sofa. Not to be confused with a settle, a chesterfield or, indeed,  an ottoman, a sofa is never [and, please, note the use of colour] a settee or, worse still, a couch. That said, I have recently become the owner of a Knole sofa, bequeathed to me by an old friend and, happily, able to be removed from her house via the hall door rather than the drawing room window through which it had, apparently, entered. It is a handsome piece. Capable of accommodating three people with ease, if not comfort, it provides commodious seating and, at the touch of a tassle, its hinged sides may be lowered, transforming this chameleon of the furniture world into an elegant daybed.  

No-one appears to know when the first Knole sofa was made but the most famous example, over 350 years old, can be seen today in the place from which it takes its name, Knole near Sevenoaks in Kent. Three stories exist to suggest why the Knole sofa, characterised by its tall, upright back and high sides, held in place by rope ties, was made in this distinctive form. One idea is that the sofa's shape was ideally suited to make room for the large dresses of the seventeenth century. The bigger the dress, the more the sides could be dropped. A second thought is that the high back and sides protected the sitter from cold, winter draughts - very common in houses of the period. Or finally, and perhaps most naughtily, the Knole sofa afforded privacy from the prying eyes of servants for those not wishing to be caught in some illicit lovers' embrace.

Whatever the reason for its manufacture, it seems entirely appropriate that such a magnificent piece of furniture should have its roots in the palatial splendour of Knole. Built in the fifteenth century, and known as a 'calendar' house, it has 365 rooms, 52 staircases, and 7 courtyards. This rattling great mansion is set in a deer park of 1000 acres and makes an imposing landmark in the Kent countryside. Given to Thomas Sackville by Elizabeth I in 1566, Knole became the birthplace and childhood home of Vita Sackville-West, creator of the now famous gardens at nearby Sissinghurst Castle.

And so now my own piece of history sits prominently in my Budapest dining room. Acquired in a rather dreadful shade of Barbara Cartland pink, it awaits transformation to something altogether more suitable by my talented Hungarian upholsterer. Piled high with cushions, and flanked on either side by large wrought iron candle holders, I envisage it as beckoning one to be cocooned within its walls. Here will be the ideal place to settle with a Christmas book and reflect upon its erstwhile cousin, preserved forever in a cabinet of glass, over a thousand miles away in Merrie England.

P.S. The image, courtesy of the National Trust, shows the west front of Knole together with a part of the extensive deer park.